


fall on me (with all your light)

by adiwriting



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Handprint (Roswell), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malex happy ending, Malex reunion, New Year's Fluff, canon typical violence mentioned, ish, suspected major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiwriting/pseuds/adiwriting
Summary: When Mr. Jones kidnaps Michael for seven days, he ends up unlocking powers in Michael that he didn't know he possessed.-Otherwise known as: "the Malex handprint fic"
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 46
Kudos: 124





	fall on me (with all your light)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [el_gilliath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_gilliath/gifts).



> Well, since I cannot get Tove Mint Baileys, I guess she’ll have to settle for this. She asked for handprint fluff, and I did handprint hurt/comfort. That’s close enough right? 
> 
> Special shout out to Hal and Christi for helping save this fic from being deleted yet again <3

Alex sits in the passenger seat of Max’s Jeep lost in thought and staring out the window while everyone else discusses strategy. 

7 days. 

It’s been 7 days since Mr. Jones kidnapped Michael. Seven days since they’d been told that Michael was dead. Taunted by Jones with the information. Teased that he’d dumped Michael’s body where they’d never find it. 

7 days of absolute hell. 

At first, Alex hadn’t wanted to believe it. He’d been determined to find Michael and bring him home in time for the Christmas Eve party Maria was throwing at the Pony. But when Isobel and Max had shown up at his doorstep, devastated and unable to feel Michael anymore, Alex lost all hope. 

It’s impossible to describe the deep ache in Alex that exists in Michael’s absence. They’ve been apart for far longer than 7 days, sure, but Alex has always had the knowledge that Michael was safe and sound. He’d gone to war knowing that his actions were protecting Michael. Not in the whole ‘off to protect our freedoms and lives’ kind of way, but in a more personal, ‘staying away so that my dad doesn’t decide to murder you to get back at me’ kind of way. This is different. This isn't thousands of miles of space between them. This is an eternity between them. A black hole of emptiness and loneliness that can’t ever be closed. 

Now, all that’s left is anger and a deeply seeded need for revenge. 

“You good?” Max asks him as they pull off the main road just beyond the Air Force base where Mr. Jones is currently calling to them. 

Alex glares at Max, as if anything could possibly be good anymore. As if anything could ever be good again. 

“Let’s kill this son of a bitch,” he says instead, stepping out of the car and pulling his gun out of its holster. 

The four of them — Max, Jenna, Isobel, and himself — all walk in silence down the road, making their way towards the back of the base where Alex will be able to use his clearance to sneak them onto the property without questions. He’s not sure what each of them are thinking during the twenty minute walk, but he hopes they are all as singularly focused on Jones’ death as he is. 

When they enter the Air Force hangar, guns raised and ready for attack, everyone else’s attention immediately goes to Mr. Jones. It’s the smart thing to do. Never turn your back on the enemy. Eliminate the threat at all costs. All those little life lessons his dad imparted on him young and the Air Force was careful to reinforce. But that’s not where Alex’s attention goes. His eyes zero in on Michael and it feels like all of the air is suddenly sucked out of the room. 

He’s torn between immense relief that Michael is still alive and extreme terror that something is seriously wrong. 

Michael is lying on the ground, eyes rolled back and body twitching like he’s having a seizure. 

Alex rushes to his side, heart squeezing painfully as he pleads with Michael to be alright. Despite every bit of training he’s had, he sets his gun down in favor of reaching out to cradle Michael’s face between his hands. He wants to collapse into his arms and sob as days of sleepless nights and grief catch up to him, but he can’t. Michael needs him. 

Every airman is given basic first aid for the field so that they can help their fellow soldiers when in need. Alex can apply a tourniquet, plug a bullet wound, and even help set a broken bone. He’s done so before. What he’s never done is witnessed a seizure first hand. He can’t remember if they even learned what to do in the case of one. His mind is helplessly blank and he wants to cry because he can’t take seeing Michael like this. 

It feels like his kind of luck, though. To be given Michael back just in time to watch him die in his arms. It would be par for the course for the joke that is his life, he thinks bitterly. 

But he can’t sink into that depression. Not yet. Not while Michael is still depending on him to keep it together. So Alex pushes all of his feelings down as deep as they can go and he forces his mind to switch over into soldier mode. 

“It’s okay, I’m going to get you out of here,” Alex says to him, his voice cracking with barely contained emotion. 

He looks Michael over, trying to determine the best way to move him so that Alex can get them to the car and call Kyle to get some actual fucking help because Michael clearly needs medical attention. He’s been taught the firemen’s carry as well as the saddleback carry, but he worries the combination of Michael’s seizure and his bad leg won’t end well for them and he doesn’t want to injure Michael any more than he already is. 

_ He doesn’t need help. He’s been given a gift _ , the sound of Mr. Jones’ voice in his head has become a familiar but unwelcome one. He wonders if everyone else can hear him or if he’s speaking just to Alex this time. 

Alex grits his teeth and refuses to engage. Refuses to be distracted. Not while Michael needs him. He’d allowed himself to get distracted before, and that’s how they found themselves in this mess. Jones never should have been able to grab Michael in the first place. 

There’s a crackling sound and when Alex looks down, little sparks are shooting out of Michael’s hands and Alex pulls his hands away from Michael’s face for fear of being electrocuted. His eyes move over Michael’s body, trying to find a source for what’s happening, but knowing it’s a lost cause. Jones’ powers are mostly mental, whatever he’s doing to Michael, Alex is unlikely to be able to reverse it while Michael is still within range of Jones. He has to find a way to get him far enough away from this place for Jones’ powers to wane. 

The concrete below them vibrates, subtle at first then it grows like an earthquake until the concrete splits open and weeds poke through, growing at an alarming rate around them. The weeds twist and intertwine as they grow higher and higher until Alex cannot see beyond them any longer. 

“What are you doing?!” Isobel yells at the same time that Max calls for Jones to stop, but Alex can’t see what’s going on. There’s a yelp and an oof and a gun goes off. 

Alex hears the sound of bullet meeting concrete instead of flesh. It’s a sound he can distinguish easily thanks to his time in Iraq and Afghanistan. They aren’t likely to get any shots off against Jones unless they can get him distracted. Alex should know, on Christmas Eve he’d emptied an entire magazine on Jones, but he’d deflected every single bullet easily. 

The broken off pieces of concrete continue to vibrate loudly until they rise in the air. Soon they are swirling around the two of them, but none come close to hitting him, which gives Alex pause. His brain tries to piece together what’s going on, but it’s like the answer is just out of reach and his fists curl in frustration. Give Alex an insurgency. Give him a hacker or a firewall. He can fight with the best of them. But he’s lost in the face of all of this alien stuff. He needs to protect, but he doesn’t know how and it pisses him off.

He studies Michael’s face, desperate for a way to help, and that’s when he sees the light blue electrical currents moving through his veins. Michael lets out a whimper and that’s all it takes for Alex to completely lose his sense of self-preservation. His scoots closer and pulls Michael’s head into his lap. His fingers stroke Michael’s cheek and move through his hair while he begs for Michael to come back to him. 

Michael’s hands burn red and soon the weeds around them are on fire. The flames lick against the ceiling and trigger the sprinkler system, but the flames remain unaffected. Alien and inextinguishable. Alex knows that an alarm will be going off in a nearby building, alerting whatever airmen are on duty to the fire. They’ve got a minute, maybe two, before somebody comes to investigate and they are discovered. 

It’s going to be a bloodbath. But whether for the aliens or the Air Force remains to be seen. They need to make a quick exit, but that isn’t possible and Alex’s entire body trembles with the need to act, but there’s no recognizable move. It’s checkmate. Game over. Jones wins. 

Michael’s nose begins to bleed as he continues to seize. Alex’s stomach drops and he feels like he’s going to be sick. His heart is beating so hard he worries it might break free of his chest. He’s been to war. He thought he was prepared for anything, but there’s nothing that could have prepared him for this. It’s one thing to fear for your own life, it’s an entirely different thing to fear for the life of the man you love more than anything in the world. 

He swallows down another wave of panic, knowing if he gives into it, he’ll be paralyzed. He has to keep moving. Has to keep pushing forward and looking for options. The warrior doesn’t mourn until the war is over and all. ‘Get up. Step up. Soldier up. Toughen up.’ It’s something his dad used to say to him when he was younger, back before he started outright saying what he truly meant, which was to man up and stop being so gay. 

Still, it rings true in this moment. He squares his shoulders and refuses to give up. He looks around for help, but he can’t see anything beyond their little cocoon. He has no way of knowing how far the fire around them extends or if the others are okay. He can’t hear any voices beyond the crackling of the flames. Yet, somehow, the two of them remain untouched. Alex doesn’t even feel the heat from the fire as it makes a near perfect circle around them. 

It’s all coming from Michael, Alex realizes. The weeds, the fire, the hurtling concrete, all of it. 

A gift. That’s what Jones had called whatever he’d done. A gift. Somehow, Jones had unlocked abilities in Michael that he hadn’t even known he had. 

It’s not that Alex didn’t know this was a possibility. Isobel was able to teach herself how to expand her powers, but that had taken a lot of time and practice and even then, her abilities were nothing like this. Somehow, it seems, Mr. Jones had managed to activate all of Michael’s powers at once and it had clearly been too much for his body to take. His brain is on overload as he continues to seize. 

Alex has to shut off his brain somehow, give it a reset. Time to recalibrate and heal. But how is he to do that without killing him? 

A thought comes to Alex, inappropriately, of the old comic books he used to read as a kid. One storyline in particular, where a hero had punched another hypnotized hero out cold and that had stopped them from destroying a whole city. It’s stupid to think that could work here. Life isn’t a comic book. 

But then again, with super powered aliens in the mix, is it really that far fetched of an idea? 

There is gunfire in the distance that can’t come from the glock that Max and Cam were carrying. Rather this is the gunfire of an MR16, meaning the Air Force has shown up and they are out of time. He doesn’t have time to think. He takes a deep breath and apologizes to Michael, placing a kiss to his temple before he pulls his arm back and punches him. Hard. 

****

Alex runs his fingers through Michael’s hair as he sleeps off the sedative Kyle gave him. The thick comforters that Alex usually sleeps with this time of year have been kicked to the floor, unnecessary now that he’s cozy under his preferred alien blanket. Michael’s head is against his chest, curls tickling Alex’s nose and he breathes in deep, savoring the smell of rain still mixed with a hint of smoke from the fire earlier. His free arm pulls Michael closer to him, taking notice and appreciating every place where their bodies touch and mold together. 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever get to enjoy this again. For several dark days, he’d truly believed that Micheal was dead. That he’d be forced to spend the rest of his life learning to live without the most significant piece of his heart. It had been brutal. Worse than anything he’d ever experienced in his life before. 

Few things give true perspective like death. Alex had been keeping his distance from Michael ever since his breakup from Forrest, unsure. Scared of admitting that he’s ready to try. Terrified of baring his heart in case it was rejected. Worried that he’ll break this seemingly fragile thing between them. And in the end, none of it protected him. He was still lovesick and hurting even in their distance and all this self-imposed space amounted to was wasted time. 

He realized it the moment Jones told them that Michael was dead. So much wasted potential between them. Over a decade of it. It was stupid. He was stupid. 

But he refuses to make that mistake again. He’s been granted a second chance with Michael and he’s determined to make the most of it. 

He drags his hand up and down Michael’s back, forcing himself to comfort rather than protect. His body is still running on high alert, unable to calm his anxiety. Unable to convince himself that they are safe. He itches for the gun under his pillow, the one he’d been keeping there ever since Michael went missing. He wants to get up and triple check the alarms again, but he remains in bed, unwilling to leave Michael’s side for any sliver of time. This is what Michael needs right now. Love and affection and Alex isn’t going to deny him a thing. No matter how much his heart is racing and his nerves go haywire at every small sound in the house. 

So he lays there, wide awake and listening to the quiet, barely audible snoring of Michael and reminds himself that he’s here. That Michael is alive. Mr. Jones is gone and Michael is here. With him. He has to say it several more times to himself before he can really believe it, and even then, it does nothing to quiet his racing heart as his mind plays out a million scenarios in which he could still lose Michael. Scenarios where the mind whammy that Isobel did on the airmen doesn’t hold and the military shows up at his doorstep to drag Michael away. Scenarios where Mr. Jones comes back to life to terrorize them. Where some other alien force shows up to destroy their lives. 

He can’t quiet his brain. 

He looks over at his dresser and tries to ground himself by listing out five things he can see. Once that’s done, he starts listing off four things he can feel, including the rise and fall of Michael’s back as he breathes comfortably on top of him. Alive and well. 

A warmth settles over his heart that only grows warmer until it’s hot against his skin. He looks down and is surprised to see Michael’s hand against his heart, glowing bright red. He should push Michael off. After all, he isn’t in control of his powers and had nearly scorched an entire airplane hanger before he’d been knocked out. If he’s waking from his sleep, there is no telling what his powers will do. Max had nearly killed Flint with a burning hand to the heart, Michael could technically do the same. He’s got all the powers of the cosmos in his hands now. 

And yet, Alex doesn’t move. Doesn’t push Michael away. Doesn’t feel any fear or anxiety. Like the fire that burned hot around them but he never felt the heat, or the concrete swirling past his head but never hitting… Alex knows that Michael would never hurt him. Even with his mind out of control, he hadn’t hurt him. Alex trusts him. Feels a deep sense of security down to his bones that he’s safe here. 

And the hand at his heart doesn’t hurt. It feels good, like he’s able to breathe again. 

A wave of relief washes over him followed by a feeling of comfort. There’s pleasure, but there’s also exhaustion. Underneath it all, is a deep, unending love. It’s how Alex feels about Michael and it floats to the surface as all of his anxiety and stress melts away. Within a minute or two, he’s falling asleep, resting easy for the first time since Michael had gone missing.

****

Alex’s drift back to consciousness is slower and gentler than he’s used to. There’s something soft pressing against the broken pieces of his soul, caressing him lovingly, a healing touch that stitches him back together again. He can feel a finger tracing a shape around his heart and every so often, if it touches him just right, it’s like a breath of fresh air entering him, filling him with more love than he knows what to do with. 

A weight settles against his pillow and a warm breath tickles his ear and Alex battles between wanting to open his eyes to prove to himself that Michael’s really alive and terrified that doing so will break the spell and when he does, he’ll be alone in his room. 

A featherlight touch traces over the scar on his forehead before trailing down his cheek and Alex finds himself opening his eyes to the most beautiful sight in the entire universe. 

“Good morning,” Michael says, hand settling more firmly against his cheek as his thumb moves back and forth against the cheekbone. It's heaven. 

“You’re here,” he whispers in disbelief and a feeling of pleased surprise moves through him. 

“I wasn’t ready to leave you just yet,” Michael answers, shifting his body closer when Alex shivers, mistaking the action for Alex being cold versus his body being so touched starved that every little caress brings a title wave of reactions. 

“I wasn’t ready for you to be gone,” he says, reaching out to place his hand against Michael’s heart, taking comfort in the steady beating, just slightly faster than an average human’s. “I’ll never be ready for you to be gone.” 

That same pleased surprise moves through him again, this time followed by a longing and an intense urge to be kissed, which makes sense. Alex had made so many bargains during those seven days without Michael, promises of the ways he would be better, how he’d take more care if he was granted a second chance. Think less and act more. He leans in and kisses Michael softly at first, making sure that his moves are welcome. Michael’s moan coincides nicely with the desire that moves through him. 

Alex moves to open his mouth, to deepen the kiss when Michael pulls away, shaking his head. 

“We shouldn’t,” he says and Alex’s heart drops in time with the wave of disappointment. “This isn’t real.” 

“What isn’t real?” he asks, fearing the answer. 

Michael’s hand reaches out to touch Alex’s chest and instantly the entire world opens up and he has to close his eyes as he can see all of the stars in the universe settle around them. Michael then lets go and the cosmos instantly vanish. 

“This, these feelings you’re having. They aren’t your own,” Michael says, tapping on his chest until Alex looks down to see the glowing handprint over his heart. 

He gasps, reaching up to trace the outline of it himself, taking in its beauty.

“You’ve been marked,” Michael explains. “I must have done it in my sleep last night.” 

Alex shakes his head, because that’s not right. He’s been marked for years. Michael reached out when they were kids and put his hand on his heart, telling him that he’d never liked anyone as much as he liked Alex and his entire life had changed. Michael had branded his name on his heart long ago, and this handprint is just a physical manifestation of what Alex has known for years but had been too scared to admit. 

“I love you,” he says, voice strong and clear, not wavering in the slightest. 

“ _ I _ love  _ you _ , that’s what you’re feeling,” Michael explains. 

“That too,” he says, because now that he knows about the handprint, he can note the subtle differences. The foreign energy in his veins that’s distinctly Michael. The way that Michael’s love for him fills in the gaps and empty spaces, but most importantly, blends seamlessly with his love for Michael. “I can feel that. I can feel what you feel, but I also feel me, and I know my heart and mind. I love you Michael. Me. All of me.” 

Michael gasps and when Alex looks up, it looks like Michael is holding his breath, eyes full of hope even as his body tenses and prepares for an attack. 

“Can’t you feel it?” Alex asks, pushing all of his own love back against Michael’s, willing it to flood through their connection. 

Michael’s eyes close as he gasps and a wide smile breaks out on his face. He’s like that for a solid minute, Alex says his name gently then more firmly when Michael doesn’t come out of it, fearing he’s gotten himself stuck in his own mind somehow. But when Michael opens his eyes again a minute later, there are tears in his eyes. 

“Did you feel it?” he asks. 

Michael shakes his head and Alex’s heart sinks before Michael smiles at him, face filled with wonder. 

“But I saw it.” 

Alex’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as Michael reaches out for Alex’s left hand and places a kiss against his ring finger. Several kisses, from the knuckle all the way to the tip. 

“Michael?” 

“You know how Maria is able to see her entire timeline?” he whispers with a conspiratorial grin. Alex nods. “I saw mine.” 

Alex stops, his heart beating harshly against his chest as the rest of him freezes, too afraid of what Michael’s seen. Scared that they are about to be given their next blow. 

“I saw ours,” Michael corrects, as amusement moves through him coupled with a whole lot of affection. 

“Ours?” he whispers, daring to hope, but the rush of Michael’s own hope does wonders to calm any doubts he has. 

Michael kisses him once, twice, three times before moving to stand up, holding out his hands for Alex to follow him. 

Alex frowns. He kind of assumed a love declaration followed by a vision of a future together would be partnered with a morning in bed. 

“Trust me,” Michael says with a grin that’s too sexy to deny. 

Alex rolls over to the edge of the bed and allows Michael to hand him his crutches before standing up. Once he’s got himself upright, Michael leans in for another kiss, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist and holding him there for just a second. He buries his nose in Alex’s neck and breathing in deep before moving away, smile wider than Alex has ever seen it.

Alex follows Michael through the house and to the sliding back door. When he pulls back the curtain, Alex can’t help but gasp in shock. There is green covering every square inch of his usually barren backyard. The grass is the kind of lush green that he’s only ever seen on his trips to the northeast. The vast expanse of the yard is overrun by desert wildflowers and bushes, their colors vibrant against the emerald of the grass. 

Alex doesn’t know most of them, never had any reason to learn them in the past, but he could recognize them from their days in the back of Michael’s truck. Bright orange petals grow out of long stems, tiny delicate flows from red woody stems, and long, sharp points of agave fill the backyard. His eyes catch on the shocking tones of a blanket flower, one of the few he can actually name. The bright red and yellow seems to glow electric in the sunlight. More orange and yellow flowers pop into view, a globemallow here and desert honeysuckle there, the orange of their petals catching the sunlight and glowing.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, face pressed up against the glass, taking it all in. Feeling a sense of wonder he hasn’t experienced since he was a kid. 

Michael laughs and Alex can feel something soft and fond pressing through the bond that he can’t quite name. “I didn’t actually realize I had done this either. But that’s not what I wanted to show you,” Michael says. 

He tugs open the door and leads Alex out to the middle of the yard surrounded by Indian Blanket flowers and spiky agave plants. He then wraps his arms around Alex’s waist and stares up at the sky. Waiting. Watching. 

“What are we doing?” Alex whispers after a minute of nothing happening. 

“Shh, just wait.” 

They continue to stay like that, staring up at the morning sky, wrapped around each other so tightly that it’s hard to tell where Alex ends and Michael begins. 

Then, little by little, Alex watches as snowflakes start to fall from the sky. Slow and random, before multiplying and picking up their pace until they start to stick together on every surface they can touch. 

“Are you doing this?” Alex asks. He’s seen a lot of things he never expected in the last 24 hours, so he wouldn’t be surprised if this is another power they can add to the ever growing list. 

Michael shakes his head. 

“Then how did you know?” he asks. 

Michael looks down at him and smiles, snow caught in his beautiful eyelashes before he blinks them away. “I saw this moment.” 

Alex is saved from having to think too deeply about the impact that Michael’s ability to see into their future is going to have on their present, from thinking of every time traveling sci-fi movie he’s ever seen and spiraling by Michael kissing him. 

“I missed Christmas,” Michael says when he pulls away, resting his forehead against Alex’s. 

“It’s okay, you’re here now.” 

Michael shakes his head. “I wanted to get you something special. Something to help show you how much I love you and that I was ready to try this. Something that would convince you that I was ready and that you’d have to remind you of my love whenever your insecurities started screaming at you that this couldn’t work.” 

His body vibrates with a million particles of pure Michael flowing through him, every last one loving and tender, making him feel more complete than he can ever remember being. 

“I have you. That’s enough,” he assures him, closing his eyes and treasuring the feeling of being so deeply connected. 

“Next year, you’re going to really love my gift. It’ll make up for missing this year,” Michael assures him, making Alex wonder just how much of their future he’d gotten a glimpse into. 

Michael looks back up at the sky, smiling as snow continues to fall. 

“So we came out here to watch the snow?” he asks, wondering what it is about it that’s so special they couldn’t have watched from in front of the warm fire, drinking coffee while cuddled under some blankets. Or better yet, why they couldn’t watch it from his bedroom window after some epic, life-affirming sex. 

“You know that moment, when everything has been painted white with snow and it’s untouched by the world, just yet? And all is calm, quiet, and bright? And the world becomes a blank canvas for you, filled with endless possibilities?” 

Alex nods, though he’s never thought so poetically about snow before. 

“I want to experience those endless possibilities with you,” he says, and it is so incredibly pure and loving that Alex doesn’t know what to do with it. His heart melts and the arms around Michael’s shoulders tighten, not wanting to ever let him go again.

He looks down at Alex and smiles, “Happy New Year, Alex.” 

“Happy New Year, Michael.” 


End file.
